The shadows of green trees swayed gently in the breeze, and shafts of morning sunlight slipped through the glass and curtains, filling the living room with a calm, serene warmth.
At this moment, Lan Qi had already brewed two cups of tea. Carrying them on a tray from the sink, he set them down in the living room and handed one to Vice Dean Ron.
Lan Qi didn’t speak first. He simply sat upright, waiting for Ron to open the conversation.
After a moment of thoughtful silence, Vice Dean Ron held the cup in both hands and finally said:
“Lan Qi, the main reason I came today is to ask—on behalf of the Sage College—about the origin of the spell card you used in the third round of the exam, [Friendly Exchange].”
Perhaps fearing he might put pressure on the boy, Ron spoke slowly and deliberately:
“Of course, if it’s inconvenient to disclose, you don’t have to answer. I simply wish to understand. I mean no harm.”
Though Lan Qi’s performance during the Shadow World exam two days ago had been remarkable, Ron—as a human—felt unfit to make hasty judgments about that realm. The Sage College’s research committee would need to carefully deliberate before deciding which parts of that Shadow World to seal away as forbidden material, and which to preserve—perhaps modified—for teaching.
But as for [Friendly Exchange], that silencing spell, it might have a profound impact on the academy’s future teaching methods.
For that reason—as well as to protect Lan Qi—Ron, in agreement with Dean Loren, felt he had to speak with the boy directly.“…”
The room fell into a quiet stillness after his words.
The truth was, Lan Qi had indeed created the card.
But the crucial toxic magic principle behind it had come from Talia. Since [Friendly Exchange] incorporated demon folk toxin-magic, tracing it back might bring her unnecessary trouble.
So far, Lan Qi had only ever planned to make two copies of [Friendly Exchange]—one for himself and one for Talia. After all, his apprenticeship contract with her included a clause: any practical card he crafted, he had to share with her. And whether a card could be sold commercially was subject to her approval.
Their fates, therefore, were tightly bound together. Talia could teach him without reservation, helping him get rich faster—so he could pay off his debts sooner.
“…I obtained it on the southern border of Mantina, from an old refugee woman. She claimed it was a secret passed down in her family. After some time, she disappeared, and I couldn’t find her again.”
Lan Qi gave this calm reply from the sofa.
After spending time with Talia, he had gradually developed the habit of honesty.
“I see…”
Ron nodded slightly at the explanation.
So [Friendly Exchange] was unlikely to be the work of some up-and-coming card maker, but rather an old card that had been passed down—and Lan Qi had simply chanced upon it.
Though his answer carried a faint hesitation, Lan Qi had looked him straight in the eyes without wavering. His mana flow remained stable, showing none of the fluctuations typical of lying.
High-ranked spellcasters could often detect truths through mana disturbances.
And the higher one climbed, the more one trained in suppressing one’s own mana—to deceive opponents.
Lan Qi clearly hadn’t yet mastered that art.
Ron hadn’t meant to test him, but the thought worried him: if Lan Qi was ever questioned by someone with ill intentions, he might reveal information too easily.
“So then… this card is likely a natural Shadow World card, not an artificially crafted one?”
Ron stroked his beard, pondering aloud.
Natural spell cards could only be found in the Shadow World. Even at purple rarity, they were often unique.
And truly, [Friendly Exchange] did feel more like a Shadow World artifact than something crafted by human hands.
“I personally think it’s closer to a natural card,” Lan Qi admitted.
Ron finally exhaled in relief.
That meant they likely didn’t have to worry about the worst-case scenario—that this card was already spreading in the market.
The vice dean rose from the sofa, satisfied.
“Lan Qi, Dean Loren has sealed away the record of your third exam. He also warned all faculty present not to reveal any details.”
Ron’s expression turned grave as he spoke.
Lan Qi bowed his head slightly.
So that was why even Princess Vivian hadn’t known the specifics of his third trial.
It was Loren—the High Priest—who had deliberately hidden the truth to protect him.
“For now, [Friendly Exchange] hasn’t been made public. And though you used it briefly during the Shadow World test, the effect wasn’t obvious. No one realized how it differed from a normal Silence spell.”
Ron continued:
“We can shield you for now. But when you use [Friendly Exchange] again under public eyes, you must be cautious. Greedy men—and crazed cultists—may stop at nothing to seize such a valuable card, or to attempt reproducing it.”
Though Ron knew Lan Qi had an unrivaled gift for torment, those fanatical cultists—who played by no rules, who failed countless times without care—were still rooted across both continents like a cancer.
And Lan Qi, still young, had but one precious life. He could not gamble it recklessly against them.
“I understand. Thank you, Professor Ron.”
Lan Qi bowed respectfully in gratitude.
“I’ll take my leave now. If you ever need help, come to the Sage College office.”
Ron still had many duties waiting. Even this visit had been carved out of his schedule with difficulty.
“Also, as our most outstanding freshman, you may have the chance to travel with the academy’s delegation this semester—visiting other prestigious schools in the southern kingdoms’ parliamentary states. When you meet their leaders, don’t be as stiff as you are with me. Show a little youthful spirit—but always remain respectful.”
Ron smiled with satisfaction at him.
When this boy was on their side, he truly became more pleasing the longer one looked.
“Yes, I understand,” Lan Qi said with a nod, hurrying ahead to open the dormitory door for him.
After this short exchange, Ron’s impression of Lan Qi had improved greatly—far better than he had imagined before arriving.
At first, he had worried that the boy’s true nature might be arrogant, that his talents might make him proud and unrestrained—causing disasters even in the real world.
But now it seemed there was little need for concern. Lan Qi was a student who knew his limits, who could separate the Shadow World from reality.
…
After closing the door, Lan Qi leaned back against it and let out a long sigh.
“Whew… that was close. I almost slipped into ‘principal mode’ again.”
When he had first heard Ron was the vice dean, he’d nearly reflexively begun instructing him as if giving administrative guidance.
Throughout the conversation, he’d had to suppress that instinct—forcing himself to act the part of a student, not the aura of a school’s highest leader.
Still, based on what Ron said about academic exchanges, perhaps he wouldn’t need to restrain himself as much then.
After all, youthful vitality—
that, Lan Qi was confident he could show.